


bruised earth

by couldaughter



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Background Relationships, Family Feels, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Recovery, Road Trips, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21991837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couldaughter/pseuds/couldaughter
Summary: Finn has a mission. Poe is just along for the ride.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 6
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

Finn spent a month in the medbay after taking a lightsaber to the back.

He didn’t remember it that well, or at least he didn’t until he really thought about it, brought back the immediacy of the pain that had kept him slipping between barely-lucid and an unhappy, fitful sleep.

There’d been a lot of nerve damage, apparently. It had been the main concern Doctor Kalonia had when she finally managed to pin him down for a medical debrief, just a few hours after the Battle of Crait.

A few basic stretches later, Finn was lying face down on a stretcher in the cargo bay of the Falcon, not entirely sure how he’d got there.

“Any numbness in the extremities?” She’d asked, passing a scanner over his spine. “Any lingering dizziness or double vision?”

“No,” Finn lied, squinting at the far wall. His toes had been prickling on and off, but considering recent events he figured he could wait to treat that. Maybe until the whole war was over, if they weren’t all dead before then.

Doctor Kalonia, unconvinced, hummed at him and gave him a cache of bacta strips. “You’re lucky, kid.”

Finn turned his head, then winced at the pain in his neck. Kalonia frowned and made a note on her datapad. “What?”

“You got a lot of visitors, back on D’Qar. That nice girl, Rey, and the young man that the General likes so much - Commander Dameron. Assuming he got reinstated, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Finn said. Poe had told him a few stories about the time he'd spent unconscious, the kind of anecdotes that only get more ridiculous the more times they're told. “I guess I did. I don’t remember it that well, to be honest.”

Kalonia shrugged. “Well, they visited a lot. I had to chase ‘em out a couple times, actually. Or get one of the droids to do it. Can’t get my hands too dirty out here. They’d take my license.”

Finn laughed at that, absently. He’d been struck by a hazy vision, half memory, half dream. Someone sat at the side of his bed, reading aloud.

Then, medical business apparently concluded, she turned away towards a crate of assorted medical supplies and left Finn to struggle back into his shirt in privacy.

Now, of course, there were a few more medics available. Finn’s toes were still unreliable, after a long year running resistance intel and narrowly avoiding death, but his vision was pretty much back to normal.

They beat the First and Final Orders in one fell swoop. He thought he might be able to spare a little time for a basic checkup.

“Do you know where the medbay is here?” He asked Poe at breakfast. The actual mess tent had been packed up the week before, all part of the bugging out process while the hastily installed civilian council figured out their next move. Finn and Poe, celebrated generals and heroes of the Battle of Exegol, were at something of a loose end.

So they were eating breakfast in their own, shared tent, metal trays balanced on their knees. Poe glanced up at him, swallowed the mouthful of porridge he’d just taken, and raised his eyebrows.

“You finally gonna get those toes looked at, buddy?”

Finn narrowed his eyes. “I told you that in confidence, man, don’t use it against me.”

Poe shrugged. “Don’t jump down my throat about it. I just figured you’d want to be able to go on tiptoe to see over high walls. Can’t carry a periscope round in peacetime.” He grinned at his own joke, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Finn felt an all-too-familiar swoop in his stomach. If he felt like being poetic, he might compare it to a hyperspace jump, or going through atmo in a troop ship. Exciting and terrifying all at once.

It was a really good thing he never felt like being poetic. Anyone who said otherwise was lying.

“Get out of my face,” he said eventually, looking down at his meal. “I just want to get checked out before we all, y’know, scatter.”

Poe blinked, slowly. His porridge lay forgotten. “Scatter?”

“It’s kind of going that way, haven’t you noticed?” Finn said, an inexplicable anger filling him. “Rey’s gone to scout out somewhere for her new school, Rose and Zorii _both_ went with her, half the squadron is off doing freight for hire, D’Acy and her wife are retiring to breed bantha on _Jakku_. It’s a real skeleton crew around here.”

“I… hadn’t thought about it that way,” said Poe, slowly. He sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “We didn’t choose this planet as a base for its bustling metropolis. That’s what Corellia is for, and kriff knows we don’t need to go back there anytime soon.”

Finn knew Poe was right, really. But the absence of the people he’d come to know and love, to regard as family, stung more every day.

“Where are you gonna go?” He asked, aiming for casual and missing by a couple parsecs.

Poe frowned. “I don’t really have any plans to leave. Dad might take me, but I think I should leave him to enjoy retirement a little longer before I load all my baggage on him. I… haven’t really thought about the future that much, the last couple years.”

Finn reached out and took Poe’s hand, linking their fingers together. Usually Poe made a big production out of it, but this time he just slumped a little and squeezed Finn’s hand, his skin warm and dry. The bags under his eyes were heavier than Finn had seen them in some time.

“You’ve just been so positive,” said Finn. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh, kriff off,” said Poe, rolling his eyes. “You’re one to talk.”

“Rey agrees with me,” Finn retorted. “You gonna disagree with the last jedi?”

“I’ll fight her one-on-one anyday,” said Poe. He wiggled his shoulders a little. “I got moves.”

Finn looked sideways at Poe, eyebrows raised. He knew that Poe knew that Rey could kick both their asses into next week without breaking a sweat.

“You’re avoiding the question,” Finn pointed out. “If you don’t know, that’s fine. Just wanted to know where I should be sending my coded transmissions.”

There had been a few weeks after Crait, knocking around the Falcon and trying not to step on everyone’s toes, that Finn hadn’t managed to see Poe for more than a few minutes a day. It had taken almost a month of corridor fly-bys for him to corner Poe in what passed for his quarters.

It had been a difficult night.

So Finn was honestly just hoping to get some way of checking in with his best friend when he inevitably jetted off to planet or planets unknown.

What he got was a look he couldn’t figure out. It reminded him a little bit of the moment Poe saw him on the runway, all the way back on D’Qar.

“I’ve had a really great idea,” said Poe. He squeezed Finn’s fingers again, almost to the point of pain. “How about you choose somewhere, and I’ll just… come with you. Be your guide to the culture of the outer rim.”

“You really mean that?” Finn asked. He liked the idea, though. He liked it a lot.

Poe shrugged. “Saves me the effort of planning a vacation.”

“I’ll think about it,” said Finn. “I mean, where to go. Obviously I want you to come with me.”

He could make fun of Poe all he wanted, but it wasn’t like he’d thought that much about where he’d end up either, after the war ended. Thinking about it ending at all had seemed impossible for months now, hauling the Falcon from dead end to dead end, trying desperately to find new allies to bolster their swiftly dwindling fleet.

There was one place he’d _like_ to go, but he’d have to find it first. Kind of a big ask for a vacation.

Poe blinked. “Huh. Thanks, buddy. That, uh, that means a lot.”

Finn grinned at him. Poe looked a little moonstruck, eyes wide. “You’re stuck with me, General. Better get used to it.”

* * *

FN-2187 was issued his first blaster the day he finally completed the base’s first standardised assault course. He’d spent weeks working on his stamina, getting faster and stronger until it was just enough to pass over the final climbing wall and grab the red flag that proved his victory.

Phasma, recently promoted and newly designated, had rested one gauntlet on the top of his head for just a moment. “Good work, recruit.”

FN didn’t remember being recruited. He didn’t remember much of anything, really. It felt like he’d lived in the barracks his whole life, since before he could even _talk._ He’d been such a baby back then. It was a good thing he was grown up now, with his own blaster and a bunk he didn’t have to share with _anybody._

The weight of the blaster felt odd in his hands. He could just about reach around the grip with one hand, his thumb and forefinger almost touching. It felt cold to the touch, but he guessed that his gauntlets would help with that, when he got them.

Sometimes, when he looked out of the viewfinder on the back wall of the barracks and saw the stars, he felt a big yawning emptiness in his chest. It made him uncomfortable, and that made his superiors notice, and that was bad. So he tried not to look so much, and ignore the smaller empty feeling that followed him around most days.

The faint memory of a hand against his forehead was just something he’d dreamed. Just like the sight of stars on a distant horizon, stretched out above a deep emerald sea.

It would be a few more years before he found out Stormtroopers shouldn’t be dreaming at all.

* * *

Finn did go to the medic in the end. Apparently he had lasting nerve damage, which was kind of like telling him the planet was a sphere, but at least he got some more bacta strips out of it.

Poe did not appreciate his blasé reaction, but Finn wasn’t surprised by that either. Poe spent a lot of time worrying about Finn when he should be worrying about himself.

“I’m just saying, you only get one set of toes,” said Poe, as they wound their way through a maze of tents and cargo crates. He was two steps behind Finn, carrying one last bag of essentials for their trip. “And who knows what might happen to them when you can’t even feel them half the time?”

“I can do without a couple toes,” said Finn, reasonably. “Didn’t you say Zorii has a cybernetic leg?”

“I don’t think they do those one toe at a time, buddy,” said Poe. “That’s not what paying in instalments means.” He was smiling when Finn checked, though, so that was alright.

They reached the Falcon while the sun was still low on the horizon, early enough that there were only a few other resistance members up and awake.

Finn paused at the ramp, turning on his heel to look out over the camp. He hadn’t had much of a chance to call it home, really, with all the time he’d spent on missions, but he’d liked it.

Poe caught up with him and put a hand on his elbow. “You alright?” He asked, voice clear and quiet.

“Yeah,” said Finn. “Yeah, I’m good. Just taking it all in.” There was something about the sight of the sea, just visible beyond the jungle that surrounded the base, that felt familiar.

“Didn’t get enough of it the past couple weeks? I figured you’d be aching for a chance to look at something other than this ugly mug.” Poe grinned at him, sly. It was getting a little more commonplace, as time went by.

Finn liked it. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said. “Come on, let’s get going. D-0 is gonna talk our ears off the whole time, we might as well get strapped in early.”

“I still can’t believe BB-8 made this a two-droid family,” said Poe. “Didn’t even consult me, just went out to the wild and adopted his own best friend.”

“He had a good example,” Finn pointed out. “If Lor San Tekka hadn’t called you out to Jakku, we’d never have met.”

He regretted the words instantly, when he saw the look on Poe’s face. Jakku wasn’t such a sore subject for either of them, now that they’d been to a few more desert planets and added a few of them to their no-fly list. But Lor San Tekka —

Poe silently pushed past him into the belly of the ship. Finn followed him, guilt already pooling in his stomach.

The Falcon was fully packed, now, cargo bay stocked with enough rations for a few weeks of spaceflight and enough creds to restock on any inhabited planets they happened to land on. Finn made his way past a small crate of data crystals and walked into the cockpit, boots clanging loudly against the metal grated floor. Poe was sat in the pilot’s chair, doing last minute flight checks and, to Finn’s eye, trying very hard to look more interested than he actually was.

“Alright then,” Finn said, resting his chin on the headrest. He could mostly see Poe’s hair from this angle, familiar dark brown curls with streaks of premature grey. “Don’t acknowledge the beauty of our friendship. See if I care.”

Poe sighed, shoulders sagging. “Sorry, buddy. Just took me out of the moment for a second. I’ll get these checks done, then I’ll sing your praises all day.”

Finn shook his head, wanting desperately to take Poe’s hand. He didn’t know if Poe would accept it, this time. “No need, Poe. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“So,” said Poe, after an excruciatingly long pause. The control board lights flicked on and off, never settling into a particular pattern. “You ever gonna tell me where we’re going? I love a surprise as much as the next guy, but I do need some coordinates for the nav system to actually function.”

“Takodana,” said Finn, easily. Maz’s castle might be gone, along with probably a thousand years of personal history and a whole lot of booze, but there was still plenty of life on the planet. “I’ve got something I need to do before we can go further than that.”

“Good thing there’s a refuelling station there then,” said Poe. He glanced up at Finn, eyes dark in the dim light of the cockpit. “Maybe we could find some of Maz’s stuff. Get in her good books.”

“I’m already there, man,” said Finn. He grabbed Poe’s shoulder, just for a second, before resting his arms along the seat back. “It’s not my fault you keep on opening your big mouth.”

Poe huffed. “I’m hurt. My mouth is a totally normal size.”

Finn, who had spent a truly unfortunate amount of time thinking about Poe’s mouth, decided to keep his own shut on the topic. He looked up and out of the canopy, across the distant jungle.

BB-8 bumped into his legs and beeped in annoyance.

Finn looked down. “Don’t blame me for your own mistakes, kid. That path leads nowhere good.” He patted the droid on the casing anyway, feeling stupidly fond.

“Hey, don’t talk to my son like that,” said Poe. He turned bodily in the chair, pulling against the pilot’s harness, just so he could reach out and run a hand over BB-8’s casing himself, smiling softly.

Finn looked away. “I’ll go strap in, then?”

“Yeah,” said Poe, still focused on his droid. “Make sure D-0’s alright, too? He’s still jumpy about hyperspace. Can’t imagine why.”

“After that little dip into your shady past _I’m_ still jumpy about hyperspace,” said Finn. “Can’t blame a droid for being logical.”

Poe rolled his eyes and settled back into his seat, reaching up to flick a few switches. “Strap in, General Finn. Get some rest.”

“See you in a couple hours, Poe,” said Finn. “Don’t shake us up too much.”

The Falcon wasn’t a huge ship, but Finn still found himself getting turned around among identical corridors. He’d heard that had been a problem for a few hundred years, but barring some serious remodification he figured he’d just have to get used to it.

Luckily, he didn’t have far to go this time. He turned towards the central bay and slid onto a bench against the bulkhead, resting his head back against the cool metal.

D-0 raced over, his wheel making a pleasant clicking noise against the grating. “Finn!” He cooed, synthesised voice sounding as chipper as it ever did. He barely stuttered at all anymore.

“Hey, Dio,” said Finn. He rested one hand on D-0’s cone and smiled as he clicked back and forth a little in excitement. “You ready for our trip?”

He dissolved into beeps at that. Finn patted him a few times before drawing back and reaching for the buckles behind him.

The passenger harnesses were very uncomfortable, even with some non-regulation padding added and a parka repurposed as a seat cushion. Finn buckled himself in, D-0 bracketed between his knees, and tried not to think about what his contact on Takodana had meant when she said she had ‘something you need to see’.

The last time he’d seen her, six months before, she’d given them a data crystal with the origin data of sixteen stormtrooper legions. Planet designations, coordinates and even grid references for specific continents.

None of them had been an FN unit. But Finn had wondered, and so had his contact, and now — this message. It was the kind of thing that would’ve kept him up at night, if he didn’t already have a laundry list of other things to lie awake over.

It was a six hour trip to Takodana. Finn felt every single second.


	2. Takodana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Information changes hands. The droids have an offscreen adventure. Finn reads a travel brochure, of a sort.

The Falcon glided to the ground with little difficulty, the long emerald grass beneath them rustling in the resulting wind. Landing had been a lot smoother ever since Rey took a gravity spanner to the landing gear, and for that Finn was going to owe her forever.

“All clear,” said Poe, voice crackling through the on-board comms. “Welcome back to Takodana.”

Finn released himself from the seat harness with extreme gratitude. It may have saved him from turning into Finn-paste on a number of occasions, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed getting pressure bruises on his clavicle every other trip.

D-0 whirred busily towards the exit ramp. Finn watched him go, one elbow on the holo-table, before pushing himself to his feet when the ramp actually lowered.

“Excitable little guy,” Poe said as he followed Finn down to solid ground. His hair blew a little in the breeze, somehow artfully tousled instead of a bird’s nest. “BB’s been good for him, I think. Been teaching him binary so he doesn’t fry his speakers so much.”

“That’s nice,” said Finn. The droids in question were a couple meters out, racing in lazy circles around long settled rubble from Maz’s castle. The cleanup efforts were still ongoing, even a year after the battle.

Poe clapped a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “So, what’s this business you got down here?”

“I’ve got some, uh, information to pick up. Vao said she found something I might be interested in, no finder’s fee required.”

Poe raised his eyebrows. “I’ll bring extra creds just in case.”

“She’s not _that_ bad,” Finn protested. To be fair, she probably was. But he really did trust her on this one — for one thing, the information wouldn’t fetch much on the open market. Vao was a criminal, but she wasn’t unreasonable.

Silently, Poe handed him a cred chip. Finn gave what he hoped was an incredibly dirty look.

“Look,” said Poe, seriously. “My career as a spice runner may have been entirely Rebel-sanctioned, but I still picked up a lot of life lessons there. The most important one is to be prepared for anything.”

Finn considered that for a second. “I don’t think that lesson is actually exclusive to spice running,” he pointed out. “But I get it.” He glanced out towards the horizon — colourful banners flapping in the wind.

Poe followed his gaze, and frowned. “Hey,” he said, sounding a little panicked. “Where are the kriffing droids?”

* * *

The kriffing droids, as it turned out, were not on the road to civilisation. They weren’t trundling happily around the market, or living it up in the cantina. They were not, in fact, anywhere nearby.

“Don’t worry, man,” said Finn, already worrying. “BB probably just took Dio for a guided tour.” There hadn’t been a reported First Order sighting on Takodana in months — he’d been sure to check before he set foot on the Falcon — but he still found himself tensing up as they walked through the market, scanning for any sign of white and black plasteel.

“Right,” said Poe, absently. He waved a hand in a lazy half circle, taking in a wide array of market stalls held up by wood and cloth. “Let’s have a look around. Maybe someone’s seen our runaways.”

Their first stop was a stall selling jewellery, which surprised Finn. Poe had worn the same tarnished silver chain round his neck the whole time Finn had known him — he could remember the glitter of it showing beneath his bloodstained collar, back on the Finalizer.

“You in the market for earrings?” He asked, peering at a steel pendant carved with an unfamiliar alphabet. “Looking to get back in Zorii’s good books?”

Poe smiled ruefully, resting his hand on a rack of bracelets. “That ship’s sailed, buddy. Nah, I’m just looking. My mom always liked this kind of thing.”

Finn’s eyes widened. He blinked, deliberately, and tried to look only politely interested. Shara Bey was, for all people around Poe loved to talk about her legacy, usually off limits off-base. “Really?”

Poe hummed in agreement, looking down at the stall. The shopkeeper was at the other end of the counter talking to a Trandoshan in monk’s robes. They were more or less in private. “Used to let me try on some of it, when I was a kid. I liked shiny stuff.”

“You still do,” Finn pointed out.

“Don’t mock me,” said Poe. “I’m a hero of the resistance.” He smiled again. “Anyway, I don’t think any of this is really worth the creds. I’m a good negotiator, but not that good.” He turned away from the stall, avoiding the shopkeeper’s many eyes with practiced ease, and pulled Finn onto the next place.

Finn went willingly, if only because he was starting to suspect the Trandoshan was less than happy with how her own negotiation process was going. His instincts were telling him a fight was, if not on the horizon, definitely gathering in the clouds.

The next stall was full of data crystals heaped into bins with labels that read, for example, ‘Feet’. Finn was not hopeful about it.

Poe glanced across at him, lips pursed in the way that Finn knew meant he was trying very hard not to laugh. It made his cheekbones look, somehow, even better.

“Don’t judge,” said Poe. “I’m sure it’s all totally innocent.”

Finn made a face. “I’m not gonna stick around and find out.”

“Oh, and I was just about to say hello.”

Finn turned on his heel. A stocky Twi’lek stood, arms crossed, head tilted up so she could meet his gaze.

“Vao!” He grinned. “Good to see you.”

“Wish I could say the same,” said Vao. “But I really cannot encourage that jacket with those pants. Who _raised_ you?”

Finn shrugged. “Was hoping you could tell me.”

Poe’s eyes widened. Finn nudged him with an elbow, and turned back to Vao. She raised her eyebrows and said nothing.

It was incredible, Finn thought, how much some people could say without opening their mouth.

“You got the info or not, Vao?”

She nodded, and dug into one of the many pockets that covered her jacket. It seemed perfect for a smuggler, if only because anyone doing a search for illegal material would get bored before they reached her collarbones. After a few moments she pulled her hand out of an inner pocket, laid her palm flat, and offered a data chip to Finn. It was unremarkable on the outside, the same cargo bay gray as everything the First Order had taken on from the Empire.

“No charge this time, General. Have to generate goodwill with the new overlords somehow.”

“Not overlords,” said Finn. “Not even close.”

“If we were overlords,” Poe cut in. “You would definitely know it.”

Vao looked unconvinced. “Have a good vacation. Don’t hurry back.”

Finn waved her off. Poe sidled a little closer to his side and glanced down at the datachip. Unconsciously, Finn tightened his grip. Precious cargo, for once.

* * *

“So, what was all that about?”

The Trandoshan had concluded their business while they met with Vao, leaving with a tall stack of crystals and a considerably lighter cred balance, so it was easy enough to amble quickly in the opposite direction before the stallholder spotted them.

Market stalls selling everything from livestock to hairbrushes passed them by as Finn and Poe walked around the square, stopping occasionally to pick up trinkets and put them down again without comment. It was almost soothing.

So of course Poe had to ruin it by actually wanting to know what was going on. Finn sighed. Honestly, hadn’t he realised nothing good ever came from curiosity?

Poe nudged him in retaliation.

“Vao’s message was a little more specific than I may have let on, before,” Finn began. The closest stall, one selling carved miniature beasts for an apparently reasonable price, seemed like a good enough place to pause. He needed something to do with his hands. “She thinks it might be point of origin info for a few of the Stormtrooper training barracks.”

Poe looked confused for a moment, eyes blank, before his expression cleared. “ _Oh_ ,” he said. “Oh, kriff. She found your home planet?”

Finn shrugged. He cradled a plasteel vulpix in both hands, trying not to let his fingers shake too much. It was a delicate thing. “Could be. The data isn’t isolated. It’s just a list of planets linked to each training platoon. FN is in there.”

“Guess we’d better get our course charted, then,” said Poe, decisively. He put down the figure he’d been inspecting — a dark green Krayt dragon — and tugged Finn away.

He set a firm pace back towards the Falcon, sitting in comparative peace on the horizon. The sun was beginning to set when they reached the boarding ramp, a riot of amber and emerald green against the darkening sky.

“Hey,” said Finn. He glanced around the grasslands, trying to spot an antenna peeking above the castle’s rubble. “Where’re the kids?”

Poe frowned. “They should be back by now.” He stuck two fingers in his mouth and, in a move which Finn continued to envy, whistled sharply.

It didn’t echo. A few moments later, a faint beeping sound blew in on the wind.

“They’ll be here soon,” said Poe, shoulders slumping a little. “Apparently they’ve had a real adventure.”

Finn put a hand on Poe’s shoulder, felt the warmth of his skin even through the fabric of his shirt. He’d spent most of the day so focused on what the data chip would reveal that he’d sort of forgotten to enjoy a little free time with his best friend.

“Next planet,” he promised, squeezing Poe’s shoulder. “We’ll actually do something fun.”

“It’s a date,” said Poe. His voice sounded a little choked.

Finn glanced up at a rapid beeping noise, only to spot D-0 speeding towards his shins at maximum velocity.

He already had a collection of bruises from the little droid, but he couldn’t really begrudge them considering how affection starved it was.

General Organa had once told him, smiling gently the whole time, that he seemed to spend a lot of time reading human emotion into droid behaviour.

“But,” she’d admitted, glancing at R2-D2 wheeling himself across the cargo bay, “I’m guilty of it myself. Both Luke and I get it from our father, I think.”

Finn missed her so much, sometimes, that it hurt to breathe. It was odd, having that kind of relationship with a commanding officer.

D-0 did, in fact, make contact with Finn’s legs, but he did at least manage to brake at the last moment.

“F-fun!” He squeaked, modulated voice stuttering through his speaker unit.

“Glad to hear it, Dio,” said Finn. “Come on, let’s get going.”

BB-8, busy being bear hugged by Poe, beeped in agreement.

The ramp lowered with a reluctant groaning sound. Poe winced.

“I’ll do a full diagnostic when we’re on board,” he offered as they watched the droids trundle up the incline. “Hopefully nothing that’ll stop take-off, but we might have to find a junk trader for parts sooner rather than later.”

“Rey might know somebody,” Finn suggested. “Or Zorii. Two geejaws with one stone.”

Poe nodded thoughtfully. “Could do with a catchup either way. You got their frequency?”

“Of course,” said Finn. “But it can wait a bit. I’ll get the data chip decrypted and let you know our options.”

Poe saluted him lazily and left for the cockpit. Finn let his eyes drift downward for a moment, despite the guilt. It was bad enough spending time swooning over Poe’s hair. If Rey found out things were getting worse, she’d laugh herself sick.

 _And_ tell Rose and Jannah. Really, it was for the best that he leave off messaging her until he stopped being as obvious.

The data chip was easy enough to decrypt — Vao had messaged him the key separately, from a separate data server. Watching the information unfurl was overwhelming, line upon line of green text filling the screen of his datapad.

He watched it for a few minutes. His chest felt tight, his throat starting to ache.

“You alright, buddy?”

Finn jumped. Poe looked sad, just for a moment, before he leaned over the back of Finn’s chair. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his flight suit, arms exposed to the cool air of the cargo bay. Finn watched as goosebumps raised on his skin, and felt his throat get somehow even tighter.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, belatedly. He swallowed a few times. “Just feeling a little weird. I haven’t even thought about _having_ a home planet in years. They kind of beat that out of you early.”

He didn’t look up at Poe after that. He could imagine the sadness in his eyes, and the guilt he felt just from that was bad enough.

Poe sighed, breath warm against Finn’s ear. “Any leads so far? Looks like a lot to sift through.”

“It’s not so bad,” he allowed. He scrolled up a few pages, back to the beginning of the FN registry. “See, it’s a little more organised than I expected. There are ten thousand troopers in each designation, but it looks like there were subcategories they never told us.”

Ability groupings, projected ranking, potential promotion material — it was an insight into the First Order that Finn had never wanted, and didn’t particularly want even now. He supposed Jannah’s group might be interested; their splinter group was rapidly becoming an entire network of ex-troopers and any more knowledge of how the Order had commodified their existence might be a new rallying point for them.

The important part for Finn’s purposes was that his own designation, 2187, was in a sub-group of only a few dozen people, with half a dozen planets between them.

He explained as much to Poe, who frowned down at the datapad and nodded as he spoke. Poe was good at paying attention.

“So those are our options,” Finn concluded. “I’ll put the coordinates for all six in the nav system, and you can choose our first vacation spot.”

Poe nodded again. “Your wish is my command, General,” he said, fondly. His eyes crinkled a little as he smiled. “I’m really happy for you, Finn. You know that?”

Finn felt blood rush to his cheeks. “Thanks, Poe. I hope… well, you know.”

There were a lot of variables involved. Finn didn’t like variables. As a trooper, choices had been made for him, or they were made with the understanding that the consequences were not his business. Personal responsibility had been hard to adjust to. The first time he’d made a choice outside the First Order, he’d got Poe, and then got Poe killed. A few good ones later, he’d saved Rey and ended up stuck in the medbay for a month.

It was the uncertainty that kept him up at night.

Poe settled a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “Yeah, buddy. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter of essentially all set up! Next time: intrigue (possibly), pining (definitely), droid antics (certainly). I forgot how much I love D-0 for a second there but then I re-opened the document for this chapter after three weeks of writer's block and it was like a fire was reignited. My sweet little droid.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my WIP! This will get finished no matter what, but the update schedule may be a little erratic when I get back to work after the Christmas break.
> 
> Title is from Your Belgian Things by The Mountain Goats.
> 
> I really liked TROS for all its sins, but I am still feeling some desperate need for more of Finn in general, and particularly his relationship with his own past. I thought they had a great foundation for something in his conversation with Jannah, and they could've built a lot on it when they were busy showing yet more Palpatine (thanks, Disney rewrites!). And then, y'know, the fact that Disney are cowards who won't admit that Finn and Poe should get married. 
> 
> New fun WIP game: Spot the KOTOR reference. There will be at least one in every chapter because I built my life around that game for like four years.
> 
> Find me on twitter/tumblr @dotsayers, where I am almost certain to be talking about something that both isn't Star Wars and is something you have only heard of because your parents watched it. I am twenty three years old.
> 
> Next chapter: Takodana, a former friend, and the importance of a good night's sleep.


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